


Everything's on Fire

by bottlefame_brewglory



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Divergence at Blackwater, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottlefame_brewglory/pseuds/bottlefame_brewglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different ending between Sandor and Sansa during the Battle of Blackwater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> A different ending between Sandor and Sansa during the Battle of Blackwater.

Sansa Stark stood looking out of the window in her room. The night sky was an eerie colour of green, grey and black. Acrid smoke reached upwards, their flames feeding on the many boats and men that had been unlucky enough to be licked by wildfire. Looking out at the devastation she knew she should have felt elated, the Lannisters were losing, burning to be precise, yet it lacked the satisfaction she had hoped for. It was all death. Death did not differ from man to man and neither did killing, the Hound had seen to it that she understood that. Robb’s men were the same as Joffery’s, they were all killers, murderers and there was no justice in this cruel world.

None of the songs she had heard were true and Sansa felt her last shred of innocence leave her.

“Everything’s on fire. Little Bird,” she heard a rough voice say from behind. 

She spun around, her breath being torn from her in fright. He stood by her bed; the only part of his face that was visible was his scarred side, looking more ghastly than ever as it was bathed in green light. His eyes were wide and he stunk of blood.

“What are you doing here?” Sansa whispered as she attempted to stop the shakiness of her voice. Her anxiety caused her heart to thrum nervously in her chest and she began to bounce on the balls of her feet, it was as if her body had a mind of its own. 

“Escaping,” he replied darkly as he took a step towards her. He was just as menacing as the day she had first laid eyes upon him. If it had not been for the fear that riddled his grey eyes she would have been confused as to why he was not joining the battle. He was terrified.

“Escaping to where?” She asked softly, trying her best not to anger him. Through the stench of blood the scent of wine lingered.

“You haven’t asked if the War is lost,” he growled and took another step forward. Now his entire body was visible. His chest place had been smashed in and Sansa wonder at how he was still able to breathe, the metal was so distorted.

“Is the War lost?”

“No, the Imp will win, he always does,” he replied gruffly as he stared at her. She could not try to fathom as to what he was thinking, but his eyes were darker than she had ever seen.

“Then why are you leaving?”

“I have too much to lose,” Sandor growled, “and the Imp will punish me for fleeing, he would be right to do so.”

Sansa gave an unladylike snort before turning and looking out the window once more. The screams of burning men were audible and she felt her stomach flip with horror. Sandor had once screamed like that, the malicious man that stood behind her had screamed and no one had helped him. No one had saved him.

“You have nothing to lose.”

She knew she had caught him by surprise because of the lack of instant reply. She spun around and he was looking over her, softly, not glaring as he always had.

“I have more to lose than you know,” he replied and Sansa did not believe it possible but his eyes darkened further. He stepped towards her and now they were virtually touching and the stench of him unbearable, but she did not back away. She would treat him as if he was a wild dog; stay completely still and he would not harm you. “I’ll take you home Little Bird,”

She believed him of course, Sandor Clegane was many things but he was a man of his word. He was a man of his word when it came to Sansa.

She stayed quiet and he watched her with vague interest. He would get her there; he was one of the most formidable warriors in King’s Landing, and perhaps the world. She knew they would be hunted. The Lannister’s would be wounded grievously by the King’s Sworn Shield’s disappearance and it would add insult to injury if their hostage disappeared as well.

“That didn’t sound like an offer,” Sansa said warily as realisation dawned upon her. She quickly took several steps backwards but he grabbed her wrist, hard enough to elicit a gasp from her.

“It wasn’t. I am giving you the choice to come easily. Do not doubt that I won’t tie you up and sling you over my shoulder and carry you to Winterfell, Little Bird.” His voice was thick now, but his grip on her wrist loosened. She felt safe with him, she realised.

“Just stay here, it will be safer,” she whispered gently and grabbed his hand. He stiffened at the contact and she quickly relinquished him. His rough laugh managed to bring a smile to her lips.

“It will not be safe for you, Little Bird, the bastard King will continue to hurt you,” his voice was gruff and protective but strangely he took a step backwards. To her he still looked as imposing as ever. Something flashed in his grey eyes, “you have three fucking seconds, girl.”

Sansa spun around and looked out the window once more. There was no point in staying, the Lannisters would kill her. She then glanced back to the one man she trusted in the whole of the Red Keep. 

“You don’t want this, ser; you know I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I know,” he replied and the burned side of his face twitched slightly. She could tell he was avidly trying to keep his gaze from lingering on the flames that Sansa knew roared behind her.

“Then you want me dead,” she concluded. Her tone was blunt and Sandor’s gaze sharpened. He lurched forwards, grabbed her by the shoulder and flung her on to her bed. Her knees hit the frame and she whimpered as he stood over her. 

“If I wanted you dead I would have already killed you and thrown you on to the streets. Peasants would be fucking your corpse or eating you.”

Sansa sat up and glowered at him furiously. Her hands clenched and she growled like a direwolf. The Hound frowned.

“At least that means you wouldn’t have damaged my face!” She yelled and she stood up and smacked him on the chest. He grabbed her wrist, but she continued to struggle. He laughed again and waited until she had calmed herself. She knew her comeback and been pathetic.

“You’re such a bastard,” she hissed and wondered where her new boldness had come from. Perhaps it was the protectiveness he projected over her, even if he threatened her constantly. “I’ll come.”

“Good,” he growled as he grabbed her and pressed his lips to hers.


End file.
